


In the Arithmatic of Love

by PuppiesRainbowsSadism



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, ace!sam, aro!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2500718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppiesRainbowsSadism/pseuds/PuppiesRainbowsSadism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s only happened three times in his entire life.</p><p>And boy, wasn’t that a bitch to figure out."</p><p>In which Sam is demisexual and pines for his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Arithmatic of Love

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for Ace SPN Week.
> 
> Title from "The Second Neurotic's Notebook" by Mignon McLaughlin: "In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing."

 

It’s only happened three times in his entire life.

And boy, wasn’t that a bitch to figure out.

The first one — well, the first one that _counted_ in Sam’s mind — was Brady. The happy-go-lucky, kind, smart, loving and caring Brady that Sam met exactly when he needed to because up until that point, he felt … sick. Like there was something terminally wrong with him — a cancer or a chromosomal disorder. Being with Brady didn’t make those feelings go away, but for the first time, he felt like maybe being this way wasn’t so bad. He _liked_ when Brady touched him, liked it even more when they found themselves in bed, wrapped up in sheets and trying to make sex work between tangled up limbs and uncontrollable giggling.

But after Brady … _changed_ , it was like that comfort just disappeared. _Poof!_ gone, and suddenly Sam couldn’t ignore the sickness he felt anymore.

It was Jess who gave him a name, not a diagnosis, but a label that he could take security from:  _Demisexual._ Jess was well-learned in sexualities and genders from all around the spectrum, and the confidence with which she declared him demi gave Sam hope. There were others out there like him, who knew exactly what it was like to feel this way — or, at least, who had similar experiences. And it was Jess who waited for him, who set boundaries for him and wold him no, you’re not ready, don’t force yourself because you feel like you have to.

But just like everyone in Sam’s life, Jess left too, in a much more drastic and traumatising way than Sam could have ever imagined. And to make it worse - if indeed it could be worse — the same event that stole Jess away from him also shoved Dean back into his life.

Dean — the first, very first, patient zero, before even Brady. Dean, whom Sam hadn’t contacted in two years, and for good reason. Dean, whom Sam’ wasn’t only horribly in love with … but he kind of wanted his body as well. Sam found himself jerking off in the shower — something that he hadn’t done since he was a horny teenager and seemingly had no choice to fantasies of Dean hovering above him, settled inside him, wrapping his mouth around his cock, and it was so terribly, _horribly_ fantastic. But that’s all it was:  Showertime fantasies. That’s all it could ever be.

Dean noticed, of course he did. Sam had been distancing himself from him for years, and this was no different. Whatever magical effect Dean thought their reunion might have had had the exact opposite effect. Sam slept on the far side of his bed, out of arm’s reach. He jumped away at any kind of physical touch, whether it be a pat on the back or just a prod to get his attention. He closed himself off, hoping that it would make the fantasies go away, banish the urge to shove Dean against the wall and grind against him until they came.

It didn’t. The further Sam pulled away, the closer Dean tried to get. One step forward, two steps back. And once Dean started trying to hook him up, that was it. Sam couldn’t take it. His label — _demisexual_ — wasn’t secure anymore. It was torture, because who in the world was Sam closer to than Dean? His own brother for Christ’s sake. The logical side of him knew that he wasn’t having these feelings just because he and Dean were close — just like a lesbian doesn’t have feelings for every woman. But it was something to blame this on besides himself. They practically lived in each other’s pockets anyway; what was one more step to get into their pants?

When it all came to a head, as it inevitably had to, it was actually Dean who brought it up, pacing in front of Sam and refusing to look at him.

"Look, man:  This whole distancing thing? I get it. I do. I don’t know how you found out, but I’m sorry okay? If you want to leave … I won’t blame you. But if by some miracle you decide to stay, this has gotta stop. It’s killing me."

Sam blinked up at Dean, wondering what the fuck he was talking about. Had he found out about Sam’s identity? Was he acephobic or something?

"I’m gonna be honest here, Dean," Sam answered seriously. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"What, you want me to spell it out for ya?" Dean shot back irritably. "I — I love you, okay? More than a brother should. And — and honestly, I’ve thought about doing … _things_ with you for a long time, but I only recently realised … and … yeah, so it’s called demiromantic apparently. I looked it up and, uh, figured You’d want to know that since you’re such a nerd and stuff.” Dean tried to lighten the tone with a forced laugh, but honestly, Sam’s head was reeling. What a pair they made:  A demiromantic allosexual and an alloromantic demisexual.

Sam walked up to Dean, encroaching on his personal space for the first time in — well, in years. He put his hands on Dean’s shoulders, not holding him in place, just resting them there, and Dean tensed up.

"Wait, so … you’re okay with this?"

Sam smiled, laughed a little in relief, and tilted his head to kiss his brother, a gesture that Dean reciprocated eagerly. “More than okay, Dean. That’s _perfect_.”


End file.
